


Undercover Boss

by MrsBarnes



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Matt the radar technician - Freeform, Not so secret Secret Base, Started off as a spoof, That SNL skit, The Author Regrets Nothing, Then got serious, Wanton destruction of property, sort of domestic, you know the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 12:23:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12410253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsBarnes/pseuds/MrsBarnes
Summary: General Armitage Hux II, architect and commander of Starkiller Base, came across a rather badly disguised Kylo Ren one random Tuesday in March.





	Undercover Boss

General Armitage Hux II, architect and commander of Starkiller Base, came across a rather badly disguised Kylo Ren one random Tuesday in March.

Well, not _badly_ disguised, he reconsidered upon closer inspection. The blond hair and glasses did wonders to hide Ren's natural grace and asymmetrical beauty. If only such drapery could mask that terrible personality as well, Armitage would advocate its use at all hours. ‘Matt,’ as he was apparently calling himself now, dressed in the traditional garb of a radar technician without the associated tools or the common black fingertip burns from handling unstable crystals and wires. He also walked like he owned the place which, really Kylo, a lowly technician with his head held high? Armitage himself would beat the moron to death in less than a week.

He was sat in the mess talking with a low-level lieutenant and one of the Troopers who, despite the sign on the wall, had his helmet off.

Armitage narrowed his eyes and remembered his number designation for later.

“What do you guys think of Kylo Ren? Do you believe him when he says he’s gunna finish what Darth Vadar started?”

Oh god.

Armitage stopped in the doorway and quietly breathed through the untenable pity building in his chest. This stupid boy. Always looking for validation from people outside himself. If Armitage didn’t hate Kylo’s ridiculous motivations utterly, he might be moved to sympathy.

As it stood, several Storm Troopers were discreetly hovering behind his back waiting to pass.

He stepped aside to let them through and listened from the relative safety of the hallway.

“Have you guys seen Kylo Ren’s light saber?”

Oh _god_.

“Yeah man,” the moronic Trooper said, “That thing’s weird looking!”

Did he not realize with whom he spoke? Was Kylo Ren not the most obvious undercover agent in the entirety of the universe? If not the Trooper then surely the Lieutenant must know? Armitage would have him slaughtered immediately otherwise. He had no use for oblivious personnel.

“No it’s not, it’s awesome!” Kylo snapped. “Here, lemme go see if I can find it and show it to you.”

Footsteps, thankfully in the other direction, and the distinct sound of a saber activating. Kylo’s crackled ominously as if to warn everyone in vicinity of the destruction about to commence, and Armitage really should put a stop to this soon or he might lose another mess.

“Look, I found Kylo Ren’s lightsaber. Look at it up close!”

“D-dude that thing looks dangerous, man, and poorly made. Like a little kid made it.”

Armitage did not listen to the words screamed in the idiot Trooper’s face. Rather, he heard only the loud screeching of burned, ripping metal when Kylo Ren apparently _threw his lightsaber across the room_. Idly, Armitage tallied up the inevitable cost of repair. Kylo Ren departed with several more clanks and snarls, leaving Armitage to calmly but firmly order all personnel to another mess for the duration of their meals. Phasma would see to the restructuring.

The Lieutenant veered back to his station rather than join the masses and, since Armitage himself was needed on the bridge, he followed.

Which was the only reason he heard the Lieutenant say, “I’m about ninety percent certain that Matt is Kylo Ren,” to one of the poorly hidden cameras installed throughout the base. Good, now Armitage wouldn’t have to dispose of him.

Although he would write the Lieutenant up for knowingly cooperating with outside intelligence.

And wasting valuable work hours talking to said outside intelligence.

Armitage made a mental note to speak with Kylo Ren about inviting strangers onto their secret weapon of mass destruction in the first place.

He came across Kylo Ren again some hours later. A few Troopers were kicking his technician tools down the hallway while he crawled across the floor attempting to pick them up. His supervisor, a very angry woman whom Armitage avoided at all costs, was walking away muttering about muffins. By Armitage’s estimation, the power to this hallway would cease to function if Kylo Ren pulled that wire—

All the lights flickered off.

“Fucking—”

And they flickered again, probably due to the Force-sensitive moron strangling his wrench.

Armitage rolled his eyes and called maintenance.

Another meal came around and, really, where else would Armitage go but the newly designated AA-58 mess, to replace B7-58 mess, which Kylo Ren destroyed not half a day ago. He found Ren seated with the same two operatives and now talking about seeing himself naked in the refresher. Because that wasn’t suspicious at all.

“—said Kylo Ren had an eight pack.”

Mmh, more like six and a half.

“What?” the Trooper giggled. “Your friend’s a liar, man, Kylo Ren’s a punk bitch! That guy looks like he weighs thirty pounds soaking wet underneath that little black dress.”

Oh god.

“Oh no,” Kylo Ren said dispassionately as the Trooper began wheezing for air. “He’s choking on food.” Well, at least he was covering his tracks, despite the distinct sound of a Force attack on human skin as well as the very intent stare beneath those oddly curled blond bangs—

“Aa-huuuh!”

“I see what’s in your mind,” Ren hissed. “It. Is. Stupid!”

And there went the brand new vending machine. Oh, and possibly one of the Troopers, depending upon how hard Kylo Ren threw him. This little venture of Ren’s was costing Armitage quite the pretty penny.

Sighing, Armitage stepped into the mess and said, “Matt, I need to speak with you.”

Kylo Ren continued to glare at the stumbling, bleeding Trooper. Several of the Troopers began to look amongst themselves worriedly which, they should be afraid of Kylo Ren, but they should fear Armitage _more_. Snoke would recall Kylo Ren from this base eventually, but Armitage owned their disposable asses. He sneered until they all stopped squirming.

“Matt, _now_.”

Apparently just remembering his cover, Kylo Ren stood and aggressively brushed past Armitage into the hallway. Herding him into a nearby office took but a second.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

Ren’s mouth twisted sullenly. “I’m afraid I don’t understand—”

“You’re afraid of nothing,” Armitage spat, “and this charade is over. Go inform the Troops of your duplicitous actions and be done with it. And remove these blasted cameras at once!”

“I—”

“ _Now_ , Ren!”

“I specifically told them not to mention my identity—”

Armitage stared at him flatly. “Really? You think I wouldn’t recognize the bane of my very existence flouncing around in a little orange jumper making a fool of himself?” Although the jumper was remarkably cute despite it all. Armitage would remember this fact for later. “Besides, they know of your identity already—”

Kylo Ren straightened from his slouch with a glare. “They do not.”

Arguing with a halfwit brought nothing but headaches and misery. Armitage refused to do so any longer. “End this little side project,” he demanded with a pinch to the nose. “Please, for my sanity.”

“…fine.”

He stormed back to the mess and Armitage took great pleasure from the look on his face when every single Trooper in there said, “Yeah, you’re Kylo Ren,” before the moron could even remove his glasses.

The glasses, also, were remarkably cute.

Armitage could do without the blond wig though.

“I knew from, Hi, I’m Matt,” the Lieutenant announced dryly to Ren’s aggressively surprised stare. Armitage really rather liked him now. Maybe, just maybe, he could allow the write up for knowingly compromising Starkiller security to slide. Special circumstances, particularly since Kylo Ren authorized this mad venture—

“We really connected today,” Kylo Ren replied.

—Well, that wouldn’t do at all.

“I’m promoting you to Superior Officer.”

“Thank you, sir!”

The world went sparkly bright around the edges when the Lieutenant touched Kylo Ren’s arm and, for a long moment, Armitage assumed it was the psychotic break finally arriving. But no, the spots fizzled away pretty quickly, leaving only a very enraged Ren standing stiff in the mess.

Armitage found the Lieutenant’s body some hours later.

“Must you devote yourself to dwindling our assets?” he sighed without rancor.  

“Hm.”

Armitage stopped stroking Kylo’s six and a half pack and peered up at the troubled idiot. “Oh really, Ren, don’t be so upset. It was only one Lieutenant.”

“He knew me immediately,” Ren grunted. “How? What gave me away?”

“Your temper, your overlarge nose, the arrogant way you carry yourself, the lightsaber, the Force choke, that godawful wig—”

“Enough!”

The light above Armitage’s desk shattered. He had more stashed in a nearby cabinet for just such a reason, but really. Why did he continuously invite this overgrown man-child into his bed? Kylo Ren rolled away from Armitage’s judgmental eyes, exposing his lovely sloping back and that little dimpled dip above his ass. Armitage abruptly remembered why he put up with Kylo Ren’s ridiculous antics.

“Alright, Matt,” Armitage said and delighted in the full-body twitch his falsely saccharine tone produced. Another light promptly shattered. “I certainly fell for the ruse. The lack of power in hallway QP5, the saber holes in mess hall B7-58, that badly fitted orange jumper—”

“Shut up!”

“—cute little glasses, all your pretty moles, the way your ass bounced while you crawled across the floor—”

Kylo Ren surged up onto his elbow and snarled down at Armitage with more light-popping venom. Clearly Armitage’s replacement drawer would be getting quite the workout come morning. What did it say about him, then, that he was horribly turned on when Ren snapped, “Hux, I said enough!” and swiped a hand toward the bathroom. Armitage didn’t even have to look to know Ren broke yet another shower head.

“—your dark hair curling with sweat beneath that disgusting wig—” he continued gleefully as water flooded the room.

Ren bit off a roar and finally rolled his pretty body overtop of Armitage. His eyes, crackling as they were with rage, reminded Armitage of the white asteroid field surrounding Yevin II, glittering in an otherwise pitch black night. He couldn’t resist yanking Ren’s head down with a hand. “—on the stupidly gorgeous radar technician destroying my base.”

“ _Your_ base?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you draw up the plans, spearhead the construction, and run day-to-day operations?”

“I picked the planet.”

Armitage rolled his eyes. “Because that’s the most time intensive of all the tasks on Starkiller.” He tugged Ren down further and shut him up with a thorough kiss before the moron could form a reply. “Now that we’ve reignited our passion,” he continued once finished. Ren’s swollen lips instantly dropped into a remarkably satisfying scowl. “Spread your legs.”

“No,” Ren snapped sullenly.

“Then I’ll just have to do it for you.” So saying, Armitage threw the idiot onto his back and took charge of the situation, as he should have from the beginning.

Clearly, Kylo Ren could not be left to his own devices.

As Ren dug his short nails into Armitage’s back and warped the metal walls with his mind, Armitage idly counted down the days until Snoke demanded he return the force-addled man-child. Their inevitable end approached quickly, a fact which both delighted and saddened Armitage in equal measure. Although he would greatly prefer a smooth transition of power from the Resistance forged Republic to First Order domination, no one could argue that Kylo Ren livened up the process. Hell, remove the wanton destruction of property and willful argumentative comments, and Kylo Ren might very well be the best thing that ever happened to Starkiller base.

“S-stop thinking of useless things!” Ren gasped, drawing Armitage away from wayward dreams.

“So sorry, darling,” Armitage announced wryly. “Am I not performing satisfactorily?”

The boy grunted and threw his legs wide, unable to argue but wanting to just the same. “Deeper,” he hissed, clawing ever harder at Armitage. Droplets of blood rolled down his biceps to pool on an otherwise spotless set of sheets. Yet another possession shamelessly destroyed. What the supply staff must think of him, to go through such excessive amounts of personal effects, more so than any other resident of Starkiller save perhaps Ren himself, who actively strived to bring the base crashing down upon their heads.

As if to prove Armitage correct, Ren threw out a hand and ruptured Armitage’s desk from within.

“That’s not an answer,” Armitage tsked.

“Yet you swell in me,” Ren leered, looking rather self-satisfied for someone panting on his back. “Y-you enjoy my exploits, don’t you, Hux?”

Since Armitage could not answer honestly without undercutting himself in future arguments, he instead propped one of Ren’s long legs over his hip and ground their bodies together until Ren’s dark eyes fluttered shut. He arched, showing off those six and a half abs to devastating effect, and Armitage decided to forget Ren’s low points in favor of enjoying his high points. “Spoilt brat,” he muttered appreciatively as Ren gasped and writhed in the bloodied sheets. That long throat visibly clicked around whatever Ren intended to say next, and Armitage delighted in the knowledge that Ren chose to swallow his words in favor of hoarsely demanding, “There, Hux, right there.”

“Here?” Armitage teased, snapping in sharply.

Ren cried out and shattered the last bulb in the room, plunging them into impenetrable darkness, marred only by the barest hint of light shining beneath the hallway door.

It was probably wishful thinking to believe that Ren’s exclamations grew louder in the dark.

His hands grasped Armitage’s shoulders with bruising force. “Don’t stop,” he gasped wretchedly, hugging Armitage down to him. Those full lips pressed to Armitage’s cheek, so Armitage felt more than heard Ren continue in a low voice just shy of begging, “Please,” and, well.

Ren’s never said that word before.

“I want a larger room,” he told Armitage imperiously some minutes later, his tone back to normal. Perhaps he’s a better actor than Armitage gave him credit for.

Or maybe Armitage’s just a lovesick fool.

He shut his eyes against the lingering blush of exertion on Ren’s pretty cheeks and said, “Sure, darling.”

After all, one way or the other, everything on this base belonged to him. Including this ridiculous force-wielding brat who, despite Armitage’s best efforts to the contrary, had Armitage wrapped around his clumsy fingers. Why else would Armitage allow Ren to run around with a television crew destroying all of Armitage’s hard work with his bare hands? If that wasn’t love, then Armitage didn’t know what the hell was wrong with either of them.  


End file.
